


I Get to Be the One

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [18]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Daddy!Killian, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mommy!Emma, Mother's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:06:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18826480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: A slice of Emma and Killan's white picket fence life - on Mother's Day. For pocketanon's birthday.





	I Get to Be the One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PocketAnon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketAnon/gifts).



> Based on the song "I Get to Be the One" by JJ Heller.

_ I get to be the one to hold your hand. I get to be the one. Through birthdays and broken bones, I’ll be there to watch you grow. I get to be the one.  _

Normally, if Emma Swan was abruptly jarred awake, she would lash out in anger. But the crew bursting through her bedroom door on this Sunday morning was the exception. Killian was carrying a tray of food, complete with a little vase of buttercups, and the girls were marching in with smiles on their faces. All four were singing the tune “Happy Birthday to You,” but swapping the words with “Happy Mother’s Day to You.” The only one missing was Henry, but he was likely doing the same thing across town with Lucy for Jacinda. She still could hardly believe her little boy was all grown up and she was a grandma. Curses and wonky timelines aside.

She sat up, suddenly wide awake with a bright smile on her face. That wasn’t her normal morning state, either, but how could she not smile? Killian had that goofy grin on his face, the one that made him look more like a nerd than a fearsome pirate captain. The one she was pretty sure he only gave to her and their three little girls. He settled the tray across her lap just as they finished their son g .

“Pancakes?” Emma asked him teasingly, and he winked. 

“We can have . . . the other kind later,” he whispered in her ear.

He reached inside the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out three pieces of construction paper with crayon scribbled across them. T he girls grabbed them eagerly, bouncing around the room. Elizabeth tried to make a flying leap onto the bed, but Killian caught her before she could knock over her mother’s breakfast. Hope handed her homemade card to her mother first with a hesitant smile on her face. 

“Thank you,” Emma told her taking the simple piece of paper from her seven-year-old's hand. Hope wasn’t very good at drawing, so the picture was just two crude stick figures labeled “Mommy and Me.” Hope had no need to be shy, however, because it was the  words  she had written across the top that stole Emma’s heart. 

_ Mommy you’re the best mom I could ask for. No one could ever replace you in my heart. I love you. _

Emma pressed her hand to her mouth as tears threatened. 

“She wrote every word of that by herself,” Killian told her with pride in his voice. 

A tear did slip out then, which Emma wiped away with her palm. She pulled Hope close, pressing a kiss to her temple. “My little writer,” she whispered. When Hope pulled away, her blue eyes shone with pleasure at her mother’s praise. Emma brushed her fingers through her daughter’s blonde curls and gave her a watery smile. 

“Here’s mine, Mommy!” Amy piped up in her high-pitched five-year-old voice. 

Amy was their little artist, so Emma wasn’t surprised to see an elaborate rose made out of bits of paper on the front of the pink card. Inside was a drawing of Amy hugging her Mommy which, while still done with sticks and circles, was much more elaborate than her older sister’s.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart,” Emma told her, drawing her close. She glanced up at Killian over the top of her daughter’s dark head. 

“Don’t worry,” he told her with a wink, “I vacuumed up all the bits of paper.”

Elizabeth crawled carefully across the bed to give Emma her card. Though she had the same dark curly hair and green eyes as her twin Amy, Elizabeth was more rambunctious and less likely to sit long enough to carefully make a card. Sure enough, the green piece of construction paper contained merely a scribble labeled “Mommy” with a heart around it.

“Oh look, you wrote your name,” Emma commented, pointing to the top corner.

Elizabeth snuggled against Emma’s side. She was also the  cuddler  of the three girls. “Actually, Hope wrote that for me.”

“Oh,” Emma said as she bit her lip. Her mind struggled to find something else to praise Elizabeth for about her card, but came up empty. The child didn’t seem to care, though. 

“I love you, Mommy,” she said, snuggling into Emma more and putting her little arms around her. 

Emma embraced her in return, breathing in the slightly sweaty smell of five-year-old. 

“And now for your present,” Killian declared, pulling a gift bag out from somewhere and plopping it down on the bed. 

“There’s more?” 

“Hope helped me shop, so you should like it,” he said, scratching behind his ear. 

Emma looked tenderly at her husband. “ Of course  I’ll like it.” He should know by now that just getting a gift at all was enough for her, especially considering the first 28 years of her life. 

Emma yanked out the tissue paper, and inside was a large, charcoal gray bag. It was simple and classic in its design, the perfect style for her personality. She grinned as she pulled it out. 

“Hope said you were looking at bags for weekend trips on the Jolly. Ones that were smaller than a duffel but nicer than a backpack.” 

Her smile softened at the hesitancy in his voice. She clutched the bag to her chest as she looked up at him. “I love it.”

She loved the bright grin Killian gave her more than the bag, to be honest. 

“Well,” he told her, scooping Elizabeth up and tossing her over his shoulder as she giggled, “enjoy your breakfast and take your time. Watch TV, read, whatever you want to do. I’ll check on you in a little while and draw you a bath.”

“Daddy says today is all about you,” Hope explained. 

“He says we’re going to paper you,” Amy added. 

“Pamper,” Kilian corrected, leaning down to brush a kiss across Emma’s lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she told him, brushing her nose against his. 

They tramped downstairs, closing the door behind them, and Emma enjoyed her breakfast in the peace and coziness of her bed. Then she settled back under the covers to binge watch some episodes of  _ Sherlock _ . She followed that with a few chapters from her well-worn copy of  _ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _ . 

It was nice having time to herself, but when the clock read eleven, she was a little bored. She slipped out of bed and made her way downstairs. She paused before reaching the bottom, her heart flipping at the sight that greeted her from the living room. 

The girls had made a tent out of blankets, pillows, and the kitchen chairs. Killian must have helped, however, because the top was suspended from the ceiling fan with fishing wire and fairy lights lined the edges. The entire thing looked like an enchanted teepee. The opening faced the stairs, so Emma could see Killian inside with the girls, propped up on pillows, reading to them. 

“They were cozy and comfortable in their little house made of logs, with the snow drifted around it and the wind crying because it could not get in by the fire.” Killian’s voice was warm and lilting, and even Emma sighed hearing it. 

Her sigh must have been louder than she thought, for Killian looked up at her with surprise on his face. “What are doing down here, love?” he asked, tossing aside the copy of  _ Little House in the Big Woods _ . “I was just about to come up and draw you a bath.”

Emma shrugged and smiled as she made her way down the rest of the stairs. “It’s Mother’s Day. I wanted to be with my girls.” She got down on her knees and wriggled her way into the tent. All three girls jostled to get to her, and soon she was sprawled against the piles of pillows with little girls draped across her like a pile of puppies. Killian smiled down at her. 

“Keep reading, Daddy!” Amy begged. 

“Yes, Pa,” Emma teased, “keep reading about the little log cabin in the woods.”

The book series was Amy’s favorite, but Emma delighted in how much Killian seemed to enjoy them too. They weren’t stories from the Enchanted Forest, and he said it helped him understand the history of his new home a little better. He took her current teasing in stride, clearing his throat to continue. It wasn’t long before the three girls were softly snoring. 

“I got them up early,” Killian explained, laying the book aside. He laid out on his back, his feet sticking out of the front of the blanket tent. Silence descended around them, filled with contentment. 

Emma reached to trace his jaw. “Killian?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love that I get to be the one . . .  “ she  trailed off, her brow furrowing as she struggled to find the right words, “that I get to be the one to live this life with you.”

Killian turned his head to kiss her palm. “I feel the same, love.”

_ I get to be the one to hold your hand. I get to be the one. Through birthdays and broken bones, I’ll be there to watch you grow. I get to be the one. _


End file.
